Adjusting Latvia’s image

While still serving as Latvia’s ambassador to the United States, Ojārs Kalniņš in August 1999 was confirmed by the Cabinet of Ministers as the new director of the Rīga-based Latvian Institute. He replaced Vaira Vīķe-Freiberga, the institute’s first director, who had recently been elected president of Latvia.

The Latvian Institute is a government-funded nonprofit organization. Created in September 1998, its charge is “to promote a positive image of Latvia both at home and abroad, primarily by organising educational activities in Latvia, developing contact networks abroad, and co-ordinating pursuits that involve shaping the image of the country,” according to the institute’s Web site.

For Kalniņš, his new job may have been a dream come true. Having lived most of his life in the United States, Kalniņš yearned to “return home” to Latvia. As head of the Latvian Institute, he could do just that, as well as continue a career that has long been focused on shaping Latvia’s image abroad.

Kalniņš, who grew up in Chicago, now lives in Rīga. In an e-mail interview, he discussed the Latvian Institute and its role in shaping Latvia’s image.

Question: The Latvian Institute, according to your own materials, has as its mandate “to promote a positive image of Latvia both at home and abroad.” Could you be more specific about what is meant by a “positive image”?

Kalniņš: Any country’s image consists of several elements—its political and economic system, society, history, culture, geographical setting. Between 1940 and 1991 these aspects of Latvia were presented to the world largely through the distorted ideological prism of the Soviet Union. As a result, the world today either knows very little about Latvia, or is misinformed. In my view, a “positive image” is simply the truth. That means an honest appraisal of our history, culture and society, a complete picture of our natural setting and open access to information about our politics and economy. Our goal is to present interesting information about Latvia that will compel people to want to know more. Ultimately, we want them to come and visit. After that, they can judge for themselves. During the seven years I spent as ambassador in Washington, I found that 95 percent of the Americans who visited Latvia for the first time came back delighted by what they saw. It was totally different than what they expected, and it gave them a new respect for the country and people of Latvia.

Q: It has been nearly a year since your appointment as the new director of the Latvian Institute was confirmed. What have been the major accomplishments of the Institute in that time?

Kalniņš: First and foremost, we have developed a clear marketing and communication strategy, and a short- and long-term plan for implementing it. In simple terms that means developing a reliable body of information about Latvia in several languages and presenting it creatively through various media—the Internet, printed materials, video, films, CD-ROM, exhibitions, etc. To be successful, the LI must have financing and broad-based support in Latvian society. During the first part of this year we focused on informing the Latvian public of who we are and what we are trying to do. The response has been very favorable. We no longer have to seek partners; they are now seeking us. The services of LI have been sought by the president’s and state chancelleries, the ministries, government agencies and scores of nongovernmental organizations. To be successful, the LI must work with all sectors of Latvian society, because they are the ones who are shaping Latvia’s image. Our job is to help them get their message out.

One of our most successful programs concerns foreign press visits to Latvia. Since January 2000, the LI has organized over 15 such visits for journalists from Spain, Israel, Portugal, France, the US, Sweden, Finland, Denmark, Brazil etc. We have worked with French and Finnish TV, National Public Radio and have an ongoing project with Latvian TV and CNN. One of our short-term goals is to quickly develop a data base of journalists, editors and producers throughout the world who have (or could acquire) an interest in Latvia. While any country can spend a lot of money to promote itself to the world, it is what others write about you that establishes your image in the minds of people. We want to reach the people who write about Latvia.

Q: As you look ahead to the next year—and beyond—what are some of the major challenges and concrete projects facing the Institute?

Kalniņš: The major challenge is funding. In order to do things we have planned, we need to expand our staff and budget. There is no shortage of projects and opportunities. The challenge is in making the most of the opportunities with limited resources. For the moment we have focused on low-cost information dissemination projects—the Internet, brochures, fact sheets. In time we would like to develop videos and CD-ROMs. In April 2001 the LI will be hosting a Baltic Sea Region Identity Workshop, which would bring scholars, journalists and cultural figures from throughout the Baltic Sea region to Riga for three-day conference on regional cultural issues. As soon as we can get the funding we would like to start translating classic Latvian literature into English. We will focus on historical novels that tell a compelling story and provide a personal, human insight into various aspects of Latvian history. We’d also like to translate favorite Latvian fairy tales and children’s books. And we desperately need a good English-language Latvian history book.

Q: What is the Institute’s funding situation? How much support has the state given the Institute? Has the Institute received any financial or other assistance from Latvian emigres?

Kalniņš: Most of our start-up budget comes from the state, although we have received support from the Swedish Institute, the American Latvian Association, the World Federation of Free Latvians and private donations. I am hoping to get support from Latvian companies for individual projects, such as films and books. At the moment, however, the State subsidy is LVL 90,000, which covers administrative costs and the production of brochures. We clearly need a lot more to expand into other media. The Latvian émigré community has helped us with donations, but in this cyber age, their network of contacts throughout the world is even more valuable to us. We Latvians have often talked about a global Latvian community—the Internet is making that a reality.

Q: From time to time, Latvia’s name gets into the Western press. In the past few months, we’ve seen accomplishments such as Prata Vetra’s third-place showing in the Eurovision Song Contest or victories by various athletes. But we’ve also seen the fall of another government, continued scandals, news of corruption, and the painful questions emerging from Latvia’s Nazi and Soviet past. What role does the Latvian Institute have to play in all this? Does the Institute, for example, get involved in publicizing the achievements of the country’s artists and athletes? Does it get involved in countering negative (or erroneous) information?

Kalniņš: We get involved in everything in some fashion. I would like to see the LI function less like a bureaucracy and more like an ad agency—flexible, creative and ready to respond constructively to any given opportunity or problem. One of our jobs is to promote Latvian achievements, and BrainStorm (Prata Vetra) and the Latvian hockey team have given us a lot to cheer about. The LI worked with LTV to get the story of Latvia’s hockey craze on “CNN World Report,” and we are talking about a project with BrainStorm. But there are many other artists, musicians and athletes doing remarkable things in Latvia, and we would like to help them get recognition as well. If the success of BrainStorm can bring exposure to other Latvian talents, we all gain from their success.

When it comes to political ups and downs, Latvia is no different than any other country in the world. However, like most post-communist European countries, Latvia has had to struggle through a difficult period of transition. The LI does not make policy or speak for the government. Political and legal issues are handled by the parliament and ministries, and they produce press releases commenting on these issues. Our job is to help the government and parliament communicate what they are doing to the outside world. The LI is presently participating in a government working group that is reviewing the state’s public information mechanism. Often, government policy is misunderstood simply because it hasn’t been fully explained.

We are working closely with President Vīķe-Freiberga’s Historians Commission. This is an international panel of experts who are thoroughly reviewing the events that took place in Latvia during WWII, particularly the Holocaust. The LI plans to distribute materials about this Commission and its findings, as well as other Holocaust-related issues.

As far as responding to negative information goes, our approach is determined by the source. If the story contains substantial errors of fact and appears in an influential publication, we respond. We are also surveying all Internet home pages, encyclopedias, international guides and reviews, to make sure the information they are presenting about Latvia is accurate. But if a reporter expresses a subjective opinion, like the sour Der Spiegel (a leading German magazine) review of the Latvian pavilion at Expo 2000 in Hanover, it’s usually unproductive to complain. You rarely win arguments of taste. However, that shouldn’t keep others from letting him know how they feel.

Q: The Latvian Institute’s Public Council includes 19 members, only one of whom appears to be an ethnic Russian (Vitalijs Gavrilovs, general director of the brewery A/S Aldaris). Is this so? And if so, isn’t the Latvian Institute open to criticism that its advisory council doesn’t accurately represent the interests of Latvia’s population?

Kalniņš: The Public Council was created under Vaira Vīķe-Freiberga’s directorship and was drawn from social, cultural and business leaders who expressed an interest in working with the LI. I don’t think you can artificially create a council through rigid quotas or fixed criteria. It has to be based on people who understand the mission of the LI and want to contribute to it. As more people understand what the LI is doing, I’m sure there will be a greater desire to participate. In the coming years changes in the council membership will reflect this.

Q: The Institute’s sphere includes both “home and abroad.” How much of the Institute’s work is done in Latvia? How does that work differ from what is done abroad?

Kalniņš: The LI is located in Latvia, but its work is targeted abroad. Our goal is to get information out to the world about what is happening in Latvia. In order to know what is happening in Latvia, we have to be in touch with everything that is going on. We have to keep track of festivals, concerts, conferences, seminars, sporting events and civic celebrations. We have to know the artists, writers, filmmakers, musicians, athletes and scientists who are making things happen, and we have to be familiar with their work. At the same time, they need to be aware of the LI and what it can do to help promote their activities. Just like an ad agency serving a client, we have to spend most of our time on-site at the plant before we can start marketing the product overseas.

Although we do participate in some international events (I was in President Vīķe-Freiberga’s delegation at Latvian National Day at Expo 2000), our goal to is get broader and more effective Latvian participation at all international events.

Q: What has the Institute done in terms of addressing Latvia’s image in North America?

Kalniņš: We haven’t focused on regions yet, although all our initial information is being produced in English and thus is suited for North America. We will be working closely with the American Latvian Association and other groups in Canada, and have a very good working relationship with the embassy in Washington, D.C. We are helping the New York-based Latvian Cultural Organization “TILTS” with promotion for the October 2000 U.S tour of the Riga Dom Boys Choir. A lot of U.S. press contacts I developed for the embassy in Washington are now also LI press contacts. We recently helped National Public Radio produce a special news report on Latvia.

Q: What does the institute do, if anything, to address Latvia’s image in Russia?

Kalniņš: We have a Russian version of our Internet home page and as the budget allows, hope to produce printed materials in Russian. As director of the LI, I am also on the advisory boards of several organizations that have Russian-oriented programs. For example, the President Guntis Ulmanis Fund, of which I am a founder, has information programs targeted toward Russia. (The fund is focused on fostering democracy and integration in Latvia.—ed.)We need to do a lot more to inform the Russian public, but unfortunately the channels of communication to Russia are hampered by Moscow’s politics.

Q: You personally have been involved in telling Latvia’s story for most of your adult life, whether writing for Čikāgas Ziņas, working as the public information representative for the American Latvian Association, or as Latvia’s ambassador to the United States. How is the work for the Latvian Institute different?

Kalniņš: It’s like an astronomer who has studied the moon all his life and finally gets a chance to go there and touch it. Personally this is the culmination of a lifelong goal: to live and work in a free Latvia. For me this is a dream job, because it allows me to get the know the best, brightest and most talented people in Latvia. I not only promote what they are doing but can work with them on joint projects. I am learning history from the top historians, exploring architecture with the specialists, getting inside tours of museums, castles, manor houses and archeological sites from the experts. When I lived in the United States, I had to read about Latvia in order to prepare information about it. Now I can experience it all first hand. Plus, the beer, bread and strawberries here are much better than what you can buy in the States. Most of my life I talked about what was happening in Latvia—there’s a lot more to talk about when you are a part of the process.

(Editor’s note: This article originally appeared on SVEIKS.com.)

Ojārs Kalniņš

Ojārs Kalniņš is director of the Rīga-based Latvian Institute.

Andris Straumanis is a special correspondent for and a co-founder of Latvians Online. From 2000–2012 he was editor of the website.

Mielavs frustrates, but holds out hope

Es nāku uz Taviem smiekliem

Every time listening to this album, I am reminded of a January afternoon in Old Rīga, sitting across a cafe table from Ainars Mielavs. He seemed uncomfortable in the role of interview subject, even though the interview was not about him but about his recording company. I left frustrated because Mielavs had not opened up more, but I was just as frustrated with myself, wishing I had posed my questions differently. Yet I also felt empathy. And so it goes with this album: frustration with Mielavs, frustration with myself, but with a sense that I know what he’s singing about.

Es nāku uz Taviem smiekliem (I Come in Response to Your Laughter) is Mielavs’ debut solo effort. This is Mielavs without the folk-rock influence of Jauns Mēness and without the masterful compositional hand of Imants Kalniņš, with whom he has released three albums. Es nāku is a showcase for Mielavs’ lyrical talent—it is a remarkable one—and for his musical skills, although he does get a hand from guitarist Gints Sola, who carries the brunt of the instrumental work on most of the tracks.

Almost all of these are love songs. They are presented in a variety of musical styles, from blues to jazz to pop. Several are painful yet optimistic love songs that dig into the relationship between two people. For example, the first track, "Labradors" (Labrador), tells of a volatile, crumbling relationship and a man’s hopeful search for his beloved’s conscience: "The walls collapsed in hatred / With dampened emotions / And all the ordinary days / Became the best of days."

These also are simple songs, with direct, strong imagery in the lyrics and—in most cases—a minimal musical underlayment.

It is this simplicity that in part leads to frustration. Mielavs in his lyrics relies often on lists of similes, of opposing thoughts, or just things. He’s done this in the past with Jauns Mēness songs, and does it here on at least five of the 12 tracks. For example, there’s "Dvēselu noliktava" (Warehouse of Souls), which has lines such as "Fame is a net which entangles / Fame is 100 proof rum / Fame is thin air on which to climb / Fame is an overthrow of values." And in "Visvairāk un vismazāk" (The Most and the Least), we have verses such as "There are books that I read the most / There are weaknesses I reveal the most / There are hopes I believe in the most / There are people I feel the most." It’s a simple and often effective songwriting technique, but when the technique begins to overpower the lyrics, perhaps it’s time to explore other forms. How about a ballad, Ainar?

Mielavs also often repeats verses, as if he were telling the audience, "Listen carefully to what I just said." In songs such as "Es izvēlos būt" (I Choose to Be), the technique at times left me thinking that additional lyrics could have been just as helpful, but at other times found me listening intently.

Musically this album has Mielavs’ voice supported on most tracks by unembellished, controlled guitar work, with an occasional banjo or mandolin. But again, too much simplicity can be frustrating. If Mielavs isn’t going to explode, at least the guitar could! Fortunately, the album is fairly well-paced. The first two melancholy tracks, "Labradors" and "Es nāku uz Taviem smiekliem" are followed by a slightly uptempo "Par un pret" (For and Against). And all the tracks seem to build toward the big finish that is the final song.

The final track, "On My Way to the Big Light," is the only song in English. Written by Mike Scott, the Scottish-born singer known for his work with The Waterboys, it is performed by Scott and Mielavs. It’s an uplifting tune, somewhat out of synch with the rest of the tracks, but nonetheless appropriate with its chorus of "All love to the Love / All flame to fire / All wings to the wind / All that lives, higher!"

The album as a whole is frustrating, but I find that it keeps digging into me—and that’s frustrating, too. My favorite tracks have become "Labradors," "Es nāku uz Taviem smiekliem," "Visvairāk un vismazāk," and "Tavu acu augstumā" (On the Level of Your Eyes), which is a gentle song, it seems, about a short woman.

This is a collection of songs that demands a careful ear, that requires listening again and again to understand fully. More so than other recent Latvian recordings, this album asks the listener to think about their own experiences in life. And the more I listen, the more I understand.

A final note: UPE has been doing a nice job with liner notes on all its recent releases, and this album is no exception. Lyrics are included in Latvian and English, with some of the translation done by Mielavs’ friend and Latvia’s former ambassador to the United States, Ojārs Kalniņš.

Details

Es nāku uz Taviem smiekliem

Ainars Mielavs

UPE Recording Co.,  2000

UPE CD 015

Andris Straumanis is a special correspondent for and a co-founder of Latvians Online. From 2000–2012 he was editor of the website.

Experience is key to Toronto festival

While there’s always something to criticize if you’re Latvian, most early reviews of the recent 11th Latvian Song Festival in Canada have been favorable. And, according to the man who led the festival’s organizing committee, it is Toronto’s long experience that helped make the Canada Day weekend (June 30-July 3) a success for an estimated 5,000 participants and spectators.

Arvīds Purvs, chair of the committee and one of the conductors during the large choir concert, should know: He’s been involved with the Toronto song festivals since 1959 on both the administrative and artistic sides.

“Toronto is the largest Latvian center…and the other smaller Latvian centers are around Toronto: Hamilton, London, St. Catherine’s, Niagara,” Purvs noted. Plus, Toronto has the facilities for large-scale events.

Toronto’s experience has evolved into a formula that appears to work, Purvs said. He said he doesn’t see the need to change much in the way things are done.

Several events during this year’s festival were sold out and had people talking about the performances. Among the highlights:

  • The chamber choir concert, featuring performances by well-known artists from Latvia (such as Dita Kalniņa and Arvīds Klišāns) as well as from the North American Latvian community (such as Rasma Lielmane, Artūrs Ozoliņš and Pēteris Zariņš).
  • The three-day run of "Minhauzena precības," a play by the late Mārtiņš Zīverts directed by Gunārs Vērenieks. Among the actors were Tālivaldis Lasmanis of the Drama Theatre of Valmiera and Mirdza Martinsone of the Dailes Theatre of Rīga.
  • The New Choreography Show in which top honors went to young choreographers Ināra Blatchina and Katrīna Tauriņa of Toronto for their children’s dance, “Vasaras rotaļa”; Iveta Asone of Indianapolis for her dance, “Mūsu pulkā nāc,” designed for fewer than eight pairs of dancers, and Zigurds Miezītis of Toronto for his “Dīžā žīga,” a choreography for eight or more pairs of dancers.
  • The spiritual music concert, featuring the women’s choir Ausma from Latvia as well as a number of choirs from Canada and the United States.

The first song festival in Canada was held in Toronto in 1953, only a few months after Latvians in Chicago organized the first song festival in the United States. And even though the number of Latvians who attend song festivals has dropped in recent years, the Toronto organizers did not question whether a festival should be held this year.

“The biggest unknown is how much the Latvian public is collapsing,” Purvs said in a July 2 interview in the Sheraton Hotel, headquarters for this year’s song festival. “If you look through the Latvian newspapers (in North America), then almost two pages are full of death notices. Those are people who at one time went and sang and danced and attended events, and now they no longer will go.”

Not knowing how many might come to the festival forced the Toronto committee to put together a conservative budget. Initial results, according to Purvs, appeared better than expected.

Profits from this year’s festival probably will not be as great as in years past, when the nonprofit society that runs the song festival in Canada was able to use proceeds to offer scholarships and other funding to Latvian organizations. More likely, any profits will be churned back into financing the next song festival—and Purvs is sure there will be another song festival in four years.

“One of the main reasons (to continue the festivals) is to support the work of choirs and folk dance groups,” Purvs said. “If there’s not a song festival, then the choirs will not be as active, they don’t have a goal.” Of course, he added, choirs and folk dance groups don’t exist just for the festivals, but the festivals do serve as milestones.

Canada’s experience with the song festivals actually goes back to 1952, when the Daugavas Vanagi veterans aid group organized a day of song on Sept. 6, similar to those held in Displaced Persons camps in Europe, according to a history of song festivals written by Valentīns Bērzkalns. About 2,000 people attended the event in Toronto’s Massey Hall.

The first song festival in Canada took place in October 1953. Attendance was in part dampened by the fact that the first festival in Chicago had already taken place in May, according to Bērzkalns’ book. An estimated 3,200 people listened to the joint choir concert, the festival’s main attraction.

Over the years, attendance and participation grew, reaching its high point during the fifth festival, when 10,600 people listened to the joint choir concert, according to song festival records. However, the renewal of Latvia’s independence in 1991 sharply cut into attendance. Only about 4,400 people attended the joint choir concert that year, a nearly 50 percent plunge from attendance at the previous festival in 1986. This year’s joint choir concert was expected to draw an audience of 2,800, Purvs said.

The numbers continue to be low, yet Purvs said he senses a resurgence of interest in the song festival and other Latvian community activities—despite the naysayers who predicted the end of song festivals outside of Latvia. Even though many Latvians now spend the summer months traveling from North America to Latvia, the initial euphoria has worn off.

“People began to slowly realize…we’re not returning home to Latvia. We’ll live right here and probably die here,” Purvs said. “And we need our own festival.”

Although for years many of the same people worked on arranging the festival, younger faces are now seen more often among the organizers. But, Purvs added, the younger organizers have grown up with the festivals.

However, he does not expect that the number of younger organizers and participants will replace the numbers of song festival veterans who have passed away.

(Editor’s note: This article originally appeared on SVEIKS.com.)

Arvīds Purvs

Arvīds Purvs is chair of the Toronto song festival’s organizing committee. (Photo by Andris Straumanis)

Andris Straumanis is a special correspondent for and a co-founder of Latvians Online. From 2000–2012 he was editor of the website.